1,500 Demi-Giants, 2,500 human slaves, 500 weak giants, and 500 beast-men—all of them were placed under his orders. Kho’s legs trembled slightly; he hadn’t expected to command an army, especially when he had never fought a battle before.
After presenting the army, Memo Ai informed Kho that he must head to Bara immediately—without delay.
Kho didn’t even have time to get to know his soldiers; he had to leave for Bara at once. But the truth was, he didn’t even know where Bara was.
At a glance, it was obvious that Kho’s troops were utterly demotivated. The Demi-Giants looked sad and scared, the weak giants were angry about having a Demi-Giant as their general, the human slaves were expressionless, broken by their miserable lives, and the beast-men—winged creatures who revered giants as gods—shared their gods' disdain for Demi-Giants.
It didn’t look like an army at all. As Memo Ai left to join the Great General, Kho found himself alone with his captains, who showed no expression or interest in him. He had no idea where to go or how to lead them.
“AAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”
Raising his arm in the air with a clenched fist and shouting was a typical gesture of strength among giants. Kho imitated this same gesture, hoping to boost the army’s morale, but no one reacted—except for one Demi-Giant, who smiled at Kho with a look of confidence.
Kho already had his weapon with him, so he ordered the troops to move forward. He still didn’t know where Bara was, but he was too proud to ask. His imperial blood and position as a general forbade him from admitting such ignorance, so he and his army marched straight ahead.
A deathly silence dominated the march. Everyone moved like an army of zombies. Hours passed; only the “weak” giants talked among themselves, muttering insults about Kho and the Demi-Giants in hushed tones. Kho walked at the very front, his captains paying him no mind, but a simple Demi-Giant soldier stepped forward to approach him.
“General Kho?”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to request a break. We’re near the river; we should take the chance to drink and fill our canteens.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Kai.”
“Very well, Kai. Let’s take a break.”
The group settled in a lush, green area to catch their breath and drink. It was still daylight, so no tents were set up.
Kho sat alone with his canteen. He lacked the confidence to approach his soldiers; he felt too hated to even try. But the Demi-Giant Kai approached the general.
“General Kho?”
“You can call me Kho if you’d like…”
Kho didn’t see himself as a general; he believed he needed to earn that title first. Kai’s respectful behavior unsettled him, given that he didn’t even know where they were headed.
Kai could tell that Kho had never participated in a single battle and knew nothing of the daily lives of ordinary Demi-Giants. His imperial blood had shielded him from the abuses usually suffered by Demi-Giants. But Kai didn’t hate him; he knew Kho wasn’t to blame.
Kai drank some water before stepping closer to Kho.
“Kho, I can suggest a different route. I know a shortcut to Bara—it’ll get us there faster.”
Kho’s eyes widened as he seemed to mull something over.
“A shortcut?”
“Yes. Let me show you the way, Kho. You won’t regret it.”
Kai’s suggestion was exactly what Kho needed. He felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from him.
“Yes, all right. That’s a great idea, Kai.”
“Thank you, Kho.”
Kai flashed a broad smile, a stark contrast to the other soldiers' somber expressions. Kho couldn’t understand—was Kai mocking him?
Kho couldn’t ignore it.
“Why are you smiling?”
“It’s just that I’m glad to see a Demi-Giant as a general. Kho, I’m happy to serve under your command.”
“Oh, really?”
Kho was shocked to hear that. Someone wanted to be part of his army? Kai believed in him?
Having spent most of his life facing reproach and mockery, Kho felt his heart stir slightly at Kai’s words.
“Yes, I’m sure glory will be ours and that we’ll eventually be accepted by our people.”
“Thanks to Emperor Rogg, we Demi-Giants can now fight and prove our worth. I’m excited about it.”
Kho understood Kai’s feelings perfectly; he shared the same ones. He, too, wanted to be accepted by his father…
“I feel the same way, Kai. We have to prove our worth. If only the others understood that too…”
As the night approached, Kho followed Kai’s lead, guiding the army to a flat, open area where they could set up camp. The soldiers moved sluggishly, still as unmotivated as they had been during the day. Kho’s captains kept their distance, silently watching him as they awaited orders.
Once the tents were pitched and the soldiers began settling down for the night, Kai approached Kho again.
“Kai,” Kho began hesitantly, “thank you for today. Without your help, I wouldn’t even know where Bara is.”
Kai smiled. “It’s my pleasure, Kho. I believe in you. Now, there’s something we need to discuss—your command structure.”
“My… command structure?”
“Yes. As a general, you need to assign specific troops to your captains. You can’t lead everyone directly, and the soldiers will perform better if their orders come from someone they trust.”
Kho nodded, though his stomach sank. He hadn’t thought about this at all.
“So… I need to decide who commands whom?”
“That’s right,” Kai said, pulling out a rough piece of parchment and a charcoal stick. He quickly sketched out the army’s composition.
- 1,500 Demi-Giants
- 500 Weak Giants
- 2,500 Human Slaves
- 500 Beast-Men
“You’re the general, so it’s natural to keep some of the strongest troops under your direct command. I’d recommend the Demi-Giants—500 of them, at least. The humans and beast-men can be divided among the other captains to balance things out.”
As Kho mulled over the suggestion, a hulking figure loomed out of the shadows. It was Kesa, one of the weak giants. His heavy footsteps announced his arrival before his booming voice cut through the quiet.
“General Kho,” Kesa spat the title as if it were poison. “I won’t take orders from a Demi-Giant. None of us will.”
Kho’s heart sank, but he forced himself to meet Kesa’s angry glare. “You’re a soldier, and I am your general. You will follow orders.”
Kesa sneered, his massive form casting a long shadow. “A general? You don’t even know how to lead an army. If you want us to march to Bara, make me a captain. I’ll handle the giants myself.”
Kho hesitated. The weak giants had been a problem from the start, their disdain for Demi-Giants evident in every sneer and insult. Before Kho could respond, Kai stepped forward.
“General Kho,” Kai said softly, his voice calm, “it might be best to agree to Kesa’s request. If you make him a captain, you can keep the peace. Besides, it’ll give us a clear chain of command for the giants.”
Kho clenched his fists. He hated the idea of giving in to Kesa’s demands, but Kai’s advice made sense. Swallowing his pride, he nodded.
“Fine,” Kho said. “Kesa, you’ll command the weak giants. But you’ll still answer to me.”
Kesa grinned triumphantly, his arrogance palpable. “Very well, General.”
With that settled, Kho turned back to Kai. “Let’s finalize the assignments.”
Together, they divided the troops as follows:
- Kho: 500 Demi-Giants, 30 Weak Giants
- Yholm: 500 Demi-Giants
- Kai: 500 Demi-Giants
- Niga: 1,000 Human Slaves
- Niger: 1,000 Human Slaves
- Kesa: 469 Weak Giants, 500 Human Slaves, 500 Beast-Men
Kai leaned closer to Kho as they reviewed the list. “You’ve made the right choice, Kho. This structure will keep things manageable. Kesa’s anger would have caused chaos otherwise.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Kho sighed, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. “I hope you’re right, Kai. I’ve never done this before.”
Kai smiled again, his confidence unwavering. “You’ll learn, General. You’re already doing better than you think.”
Kho stared at the rough command structure one last time. For the first time since the journey began, he felt a small spark of hope.
As the first light of dawn broke over the camp, Kho rose with the rest of the army. The soldiers quickly dismantled the tents and packed their belongings. Without wasting any time, Kai resumed his role as guide, leading the army through the rough terrain. The journey was tense but uneventful until midday when the landscape began to change.
The air grew heavier, and the once-green plains gave way to barren land. They had arrived in Caan, a resting point before Bara. Kai halted the army.
“We’ll take a break here,” Kai announced, his tone steady. He turned to Kho. “We’re close now, General. Bara is just beyond those hills.”
Kho nodded, but the uneasy look in Kai’s eyes didn’t escape him. The soldiers began to settle, drinking water and catching their breath. Kho tried to appear composed, but the weight of what awaited them gnawed at him.
It wasn’t long before that unease turned to dread. A foul stench filled the air, acrid and unnatural. The ground beneath them trembled faintly, and an eerie silence enveloped the area.
“What is that?” Kho muttered, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his claymore.
Before anyone could answer, grotesque figures emerged from the horizon—twisted, humanoid shapes that seemed to ooze from the ground itself. Their bodies were made of a viscous black sludge, dripping and reforming as they moved, their glowing red eyes the only distinct feature in their formless faces.
“Demons!” Kesa roared, his voice booming. “Charge!”
Without hesitation, the weak giants surged forward, Kesa leading the charge with reckless abandon. The beast-men followed, shouting battle cries as they spread their wings. The human slaves and Demi-Giants hesitated, their fear evident. Kho stood frozen, his claymore trembling in his hands.
“Kai,” Kho whispered, his voice shaking, “what… what are those things?”
“Low-ranking demons,” Kai replied grimly, gripping his own weapon. “If this is what waits here, Bara will be far worse.”
Kho swallowed hard, his mind racing. He had never seen such creatures before. Their liquid bodies writhed unnaturally, and the very sight of them sent a shiver down his spine. But as the giants collided with the demons, it became clear that these were not invincible foes.
The battle was chaotic. Kesa swung his massive club with brutal force, smashing through the demonic figures, though the black liquid clung to his weapon. The giants fought ferociously, their size and strength overwhelming the weaker demons. Meanwhile, the Demi-Giants and human slaves joined the fray, their fear giving way to raw survival instincts.
Kho hesitated no longer. With a roar, he raised his claymore and charged into the chaos. His swings were clumsy, driven more by adrenaline than skill, but the blade cleaved through the demonic sludge, dispersing it with each strike.
Despite the disarray, the army managed to overwhelm the creatures. The demons were not as strong as they appeared, their black forms dissipating into the ground when struck down. Within an hour, the field was littered with remnants of black ooze that evaporated under the sun.
Breathing heavily, Kho surveyed the battlefield. His claymore dripped with the same black substance that had coated the demons. The soldiers, though weary, looked around with a glimmer of hope. They had survived.
Kesa approached, wiping the ooze from his club. “Pathetic creatures,” he scoffed. “If this is all the demons have, Bara will fall easily.”
Kai stepped beside Kho, his face grave. “Don’t let your guard down, Kesa. This was only a taste. Bara will be much worse.”
Kho clenched his fists. He could still feel the tremor in his legs, but for the first time, he felt the faintest flicker of pride. His army—disparate, broken, and ill-prepared—had managed to stand against the enemy, however small the victory.
As the soldiers regrouped and readied themselves to march again, the morale in the camp rose slightly. The looming shadow of Bara still hung over them, but for now, they moved with renewed purpose.
Kho sheathed his claymore and glanced at Kai. “Thank you… for everything.”
Kai gave him a small, reassuring smile. “This is just the beginning, Kho. Stay strong.”
With that, the army began its final march toward Bara, the echoes of their small victory carrying them forward.
Kho stood there, taking in the aftermath of the battle. His heart still raced from the chaos, but the soldiers around him were already moving to rest, their exhaustion evident. He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that the worst had passed.
But then, a horrific sound cut through the air—a series of high-pitched screams. Kho turned, his stomach churning as he saw Kesa and a few of the other giants, their eyes wild with hunger, dragging several of the human slaves towards them.
“What are they doing?” Kho muttered under his breath, stepping forward, his body trembling.
The giants, including Kesa, had started to devour the human slaves. Their brutal teeth tore into the flesh of the helpless individuals, the sickening crunch of bones echoed through the camp. The slaves' desperate screams were cut off as the giants tore into them with primal fervor, greed in their eyes.
Kho’s stomach twisted in revulsion. This can’t be happening. These are soldiers—my soldiers. Not livestock.
He rushed toward them, his hands shaking as he clenched the hilt of his claymore. “Kesa! Stop! These are soldiers, not food!”
Kesa paused mid-bite, his face dripping with blood, his eyes narrowing in irritation. “What?” he grunted, his voice thick with disdain. “They’re human slaves. They are food, nothing more. We’ve killed demons—earned this. They’ve earned nothing but death.”
Kho’s fury surged, his breath coming in sharp bursts. “I’m the General here, Kesa! I say who lives and who dies. And I say you do not eat my soldiers!”
Kesa’s face twisted in anger. He stood tall, the blood dripping from his mouth, his massive frame towering over Kho. Around him, several other giants stepped forward, their expressions just as furious, as if daring Kho to make a move. They flexed their claws, preparing for a confrontation.
Kho felt the weight of the moment settle on him. His grip tightened on his claymore. He had never been in a situation like this, never imagined having to command giants who could kill him with a single blow.
For a moment, it seemed like a fight would erupt—Kho against the giants who were supposed to follow him, but who now viewed him with contempt. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating.
But then, Kesa gave a low growl, his eyes flicking down at Kho’s claymore. He hesitated, then spat on the ground. “You’re lucky you’re of Imperial blood,” Kesa sneered. “Otherwise, I’d gut you where you stand.”
Kho stood tall, his gaze unwavering. “I’m not lucky, Kesa. I’m your General, and I don’t allow this.”
Kesa, though still furious, slowly backed away. He turned to the other giants, giving them a nod to stop their feast. The giants grumbled in dissatisfaction, but one by one, they reluctantly stepped back from the bodies of the human slaves. Kesa’s massive form loomed over Kho for a moment longer, then he barked, “Don’t think you’ve won anything, Demi-Giant. We don’t forget this.”
Kho held his ground, though his heart was pounding. He’d come close to losing control of his own army, and it terrified him. He turned to his captains, hoping they had seen what had just occurred. This was the reality of command—this is what he had to control.
“I said no,” Kho muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “These are my soldiers. If we’re going to survive, I need you to follow orders, Kesa.”
Kesa snorted but said nothing further, his fury still simmering beneath the surface.
Kho exhaled slowly, glancing at Kai for support. Kai, who had watched the whole interaction with quiet interest, finally spoke. “You did well to stop them, Kho. But don’t let them think you’re weak. Command isn’t just about power—it’s about respect.”
Kho looked at the remnants of the human slaves—now just bodies in the dirt. His mind raced with the knowledge that his soldiers were not just unruly—they were dangerous. He couldn’t afford to lose their respect. Not now. Not when Bara was so close.
“I’m not weak,” Kho said quietly. “I’m their General.”
As the sun began to set, Kho made a silent vow to himself. He would not let this army fall apart—not under his command. He had already made enemies, and he knew this was just the beginning of the battles he would face, both on the battlefield and within his own ranks.
The devastation across Venadyl was palpable. The once-vibrant kingdom now lay in ruin, its cities reduced to ashes under the unstoppable onslaught of Stolas and his demonic legions. The blood of countless fallen Venadylians stained the ground, and the magical defenses that had once protected the kingdom were no more. Venadyl had been thoroughly purged, the kingdom left broken by the primal chaos of the Abyss.
For Stolas, this was only a temporary pause in his relentless pursuit of destruction. Venadyl had been a stepping stone in his greater plan. With his task here complete, he turned his eyes to new horizons—Oosa, Xavu, Dalmask, and beyond. His hunger for chaos was insatiable, and the Abyss called to him. But before leaving, he needed to ensure one thing.
The Summoning Circle—the link between the Abyss and Arche—was the only tether that kept Stolas and his army from being fully trapped in this world. If it were tampered with, if the seal were broken, it could sever the connection between the two realms, banishing them all back to the Abyss. And so, Stolas knew he must leave behind guardians, but not out of trust. He left Deumus and Alrune to their task, aware that they had no loyalty to him or any real connection to his goals. They were simply tools—useful, dangerous, and capable of securing the Circle while he pursued his larger ambitions.
But Stolas had underestimated their true nature.
Alrune, the draconic demon with the fierce blue and red eyes, listened to Stolas’s orders, but she was not one to obey out of loyalty. Her ambitions had never been fully aligned with Stolas’s plans. Her hatred for authority burned deep, and while she was content to follow Stolas in the short term, she had always planned for her own path forward. The moment Stolas left, Alrune would act on her own whims.
"Venadyl is ashes. There is no more sport to be had here," Alrune muttered to herself, her draconic form flickering in and out of visibility. "It is time for Oosa to feel my wrath."
Stolas had given her orders to guard the Summoning Circle, but Alrune had no intention of staying in Venadyl. She despised the idea of being tethered to a place that was already destroyed. Instead, she would pursue chaos on her own terms. The giants of Oosa had long been a thorn in the side of the demons. It was time to send a message—to make them pay for their hubris.
Alrune’s gaze hardened as she spread her wings. "I’ll leave the Seal to Deumus," she muttered. "But Oosa is my target now."
And with that, she soared into the sky, her powerful wings cutting through the air like a harbinger of destruction. The land of the giants awaited, and nothing would stop her from wreaking havoc there.
Deumus, grotesque in form and twisted in mind, was left behind at the Summoning Circle. His mission was clear, but not because of any loyalty to Stolas. Deumus didn’t care about the larger war or about any goals beyond his own pleasure. His goal was simple: inflict pain and suffering for as long as possible.
Unlike Alrune, who had more grandiose desires for chaos, Deumus was driven by something darker—his obsession with tormenting souls for eternity. He didn’t wish for the complete annihilation of all beings. He wanted to torture them indefinitely. The more despair, the better.
"Let them come," Deumus crooned to himself, his smile grotesque and twisted. "Let anyone try to break the Seal. I’ll enjoy every scream."
He didn’t care about the Summoning Circle’s importance to Stolas or anyone else. The Seal’s existence meant the potential for endless torment, and Deumus wasn’t about to let that slip away. As long as he could keep the Circle intact, he could continue his work—the never-ending suffering of any soul who dared approach.
Without another word, Stolas unfurled his massive, dark wings. He didn’t look back as his great form took to the sky, his army following in his wake. Venadyl, with all its suffering and destruction, was a mere stepping stone. The true chaos that Stolas sought still lay ahead, beyond the reach of this shattered kingdom.
The demons left in his wake would only serve as a quiet reminder of the power that had once surged through this place. The Summoning Circle remained, its magic the only tether to the Abyss, a fragile link that kept the demons from being fully trapped here on Arche. And Stolas, in his infinite chaos, knew it must not be disturbed.
Deumus remained at the Summoning Circle, standing guard with an eerie stillness. He could feel the pulse of the magic, its subtle hum reverberating through the air. He knew that the fate of Arche rested on this single, fragile link. He would not allow it to be severed. Not for Stolas, but for his own enjoyment.
Meanwhile, Alrune, having already turned her attention toward Oosa, knew that she had no real need to adhere to Stolas’s order. The chaos she intended to bring would surpass anything Stolas could have imagined. The giants would rue the day they thought themselves safe.
As Alrune vanished into the horizon, Deumus stayed by the Circle, ready to deal with anyone foolish enough to challenge him. His smile twisted further as he awaited the arrival of potential threats. The chaos and pain would never stop—not while he still had the power to create it.